


Tides of War

by bentnotbroken1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Multi POV's, Non romantic relationship between Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger, Possesive Sirius Black, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bentnotbroken1/pseuds/bentnotbroken1
Summary: When Commander Tom Riddle finds a distraught Hermione Granger mourning over his missing medic, he offers to help her seek vengeance against his killer.





	Tides of War

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Death_by_Quill](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Death_by_Quill) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Round Four ONLY  
> Theme: Vengeance
> 
> This is a work of fan fiction, and I take no ownership of the Characters used in it.

  
The wind howled, rattling the windows of the small flat as the man watched the rain pound against the ground outside. It was a cold miserable night; one not even fit for rats to scurry, and it reminded him of a night not so long ago when he watched the the tides of war change on the back of a beautiful woman.

“Sir, dinner is ready. Will you two be joining us?””  

His lieutenant's voice brought him out of his reverie and he nodded. “We'll be there momentarily.”  

The man turned around and left the way he came, leaving Thomas Riddle to smirk to himself as he shut the curtains and strolled into the small den.

She was hunched over the table when he came to a stop behind her, letting his hand rest on her tense shoulder. She didn't flinch, barely even _acknowledged_ him, as she continued looking at the maps and notes sprawled across the desk. He knew if he could see her face that it would be tired, worn and washed out. Her eyes would most likely be bloodshot and there would be bags under them from the many sleepless nights she’d had.

She hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time. Not since the night he’d found her, shaking in cold fury and out of her mind with grief. He knew then, as he stared at the broken and bloody body in her arms, that he'd finally found his edge in this war. Hermione Granger, one of The Order’s most gifted and prolific soldiers, had been betrayed; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

He was more than willing to give up his authority and follow her into battle just to witness the glorious vengeance she’d wreak. She had come a long way from that bloody night six months ago and he was all too happy to take credit for his role in her transformation. After all, they had both lost someone important that night.

_He’d been on a last ditch search and rescue mission to find one of his top healers and strategists, a man he'd viewed as a little brother growing up and who'd been missing for months, when he heard a horrifying scream that stopped him dead in his tracks. The forest had been quiet until the shocking sound of devastation filled the trees and it was enough to make him pause._

_“Sir?” Rabastan halted beside him, face twisting in the direction the sound was coming from. “What-?”_

_Tom lifted a hand to silence his lieutenant as another angry sob echoed into the night. He shifted forward, unable to ignore such a sound. He knew it was risky heading into recently vacated enemy territory, but at the moment risk was the furthest thing from his mind._

_Perhaps it was the memories of his mother making a similar noise when his father died, or maybe it was just his curiosity that propelled him towards agony. Either way he was doing this, and dragging Rabastan along for the ride._

_When they finally pushed through the bushes and trees surrounding the small clearing everything seemed to still. The cries, the wind,_ everything. _There was only the soft thudding of his heart in his ears when his eyes finally made sense of what he was seeing. A soldier from The Order, a_ woman, _sat with her back to them, clutching a battered and bloodied body to her chest. If her sobs weren't an obvious sign as to the state of things, the snow around her was stained with enough red to indicate the man in her arms was no longer alive._

_Tom approached the woman cautiously. not wanting to spook her, but when he saw the shock of pale, scarlet splattered hair in her grasp, an involuntary noise ripped from his chest. “No.”_

_Chocolate eyes lifted to meet his gaze and the look in them chilled him to the bone. If she'd been an animal she would have bared her teeth and growled at him. As it was, she tightened her grip and hissed, “You can't have him.”_

_Rabastan, who had kept his distance, was beside him in a split second, adding his own disbelieving groan to the mix. “Christ, please tell me that's not-.”_

_But he couldn't reassure his comrade. He couldn't offer any words of comfort as they stood there in the cold winter wind, staring down at the deceased form of Draco Malfoy in the arms of his apparent star crossed lover._

  
And now that star crossed lover sat at _his_ table preparing a raid that would win him this war and give her the closure she needed.

Tom couldn't be prouder.

* * *

Deep down Hermione knew that she should be ashamed of herself. What she was doing was _wrong_ . She was betraying her friends and family, her very way of life, by just being here. She was damning herself further by working alongside the supposed devil himself, Tom Riddle. She should be vomiting with how vile this all was. She was about to tip the scales in favor of the _enemy_ and destroy everything she had helped build! So she knew she should be feeling _something._ But she didn't and she really couldn't find it in herself to care. They'd taken the choice out of her hands when they murdered Draco right in front of her face after he _saved her life,_ after he’d spent months _helping_ them _._

He'd been their prisoner and been treated with nothing but contempt and cruelty from the beginning, but when someone was sick or dying he offered his knowledge and services. He _knew_ he wasn't going to be released. He _knew_ he was most likely going to die on their side of the line, but he still _helped_ them _._ And she’d fallen in love with him for it.   

Their love affair hadn't gone unnoticed, though. If it had, maybe she would have been more forgiving about what happened.

  
_A familiar gun cocked close to her_ _and_ _blue eyes widened in knowing horror. He reached a hand toward her, his voice sounding sad and clear in her ears as he pleaded, “Don’t look, Granger! Close your eyes!”_

_But she couldn't. She’d kept her eyes glued to his pale beautiful face, and thus witnessed the exact moment the life left him as a bullet entered his temple and passed cleanly through the other side, spraying the snow covered ground with his blood. She screamed and tried to catch him as he fell, but his weight dragged her down, causing her to fall hard on her knees._

_“No! No! Please God no!” She cried, pulling him into her body like a mother held a child. Her hands desperately searched his face, neck, and chest for signs of life, ignoring the warm sticky feeling of his blood coating them and pooling around her legs. “Don’t do this to me! Please! Please!” Tears blurred her vision as she pushed back his bangs from his face. “Damn it, Draco! Open your eyes!” She didn't even recognize her own voice as she cried and begged him to stay._

_A voice spoke her name. “Hermione?”_

_But it wasn't the voice she wanted to hear, the husky tenor she’d come to know and love. It was the voice of his_ murderer _. The voice of her mentor, her_ friend.

 _“Don’t.” She lifted a bloody hand to halt the man's movement. “Don't you_ dare _speak to me.”_

_“It had to be done. He knew too much.”_

_“He was unarmed.” Her body rocked back and forth unconsciously as tears ran down her cheeks. “_ Defenseless _.”_

_“Defenseless? Have you lost all your senses? Or have you simply forgotten who you're unjustly mourning?” He scoffed, shifting on his feet. “Draco Malfoy was anything but defenseless.”_

_Disbelief and sadness was quickly  giving way to rage. “Fuck you, Sirius!”_

_The dark haired man frowned and she noticed that the gun had been returned to its holster when he raised his hands placatingly toward her. “I'm just being honest here, love. We all know how fond you were of the boy, but you mustn't forget that he was still the enemy.” When she refused to reply, remaining silent and glaring hotly at him, he shoved his hands in his pockets and threw her a look of disgust. “You've got ten minutes.” He told her, then addressed the growing crowd of their comrades. “As for the rest of you, we'll be heading out in fifteen. Pack up what you can.”_

She hadn't watched him leave. She couldn’t. If she’d seen him turn his back to her, she was afraid she wouldn't have been able to resist the opportunity to unload her clip into it.

When Riddle had found her, she'd been a complete and utter mess. The man she loved was dead in her arms, her clothes caked in his drying blood, and her friends had left her. They'd figured she'd catch up, but no one had bothered to stay and make sure she was alright. And then there was the fact that the man who'd been somewhat of a father figure had been the one to shatter her heart.

And he'd done it out of spite.

She was shocked that she had even let the leader of her enemies help her. But if her own people wouldn't...well she wasn't going to be picky. Not that it was a walk in the park for him. It had taken him at least thirty minutes to get her to let go of Draco's body and another twenty to get her to stop shaking.

He'd told her she could mourn as long as she wanted but that he needed to know what she planned to do afterwards. He was fully prepared to show mercy and let her run back to The Order with her tail between her legs, but he sensed that she craved a different course of action.

And he was right. She wanted him to pay for what he'd done.

And pay he would. She'd make sure of it.

* * *

  
Sirius Black tapped his pen against the table top anxiously, unable to make sense of the letters in front of him. His mind wasn't on the job. It was somewhere else, _on someone_ else. It had been six months since he’d seen her bushy hair or heard her voice objecting to one strategy or another. At first her disappearance hadn't bothered him. They all figured she needed time to calm down and that she'd be back when she had. That was five months ago. Her absence was haunting The Order...haunting _him,_ but there was little he could do except wait.

He heard a throat clearing and glanced up to see his godson, Harry Potter, leaning against the door jamb, looking just as weary as he felt. “Any sign of her?” he asked him. “Have you heard anything?”

The young man shook his head. “Not a peep.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before pushing off the door and joining his commander at the table. “Honestly, I'm starting to believe she _did_ throw herself off a cliff that day.”

“My Hermione wouldn’t have done that.” Sirius insisted, suppressing a growl. “The Hermione I know wouldn't have _killed_ herself.”

Harry held his gaze with an incredulous one of his own. “You're only fooling yourself if you believe that. The Hermione you knew died the day Malfoy did.” Black slammed his hand down at the mention of the blonde haired POW, his mouth turned downward and eyes furious, but that didn't stop Harry from continuing on. “And she had stopped being _your_ Hermione the minute his smart arse landed in our camp.”

“So, what? You think I was _wrong_ to have killed him?”

The boy leaned back and tilted his head in thought. “I don’t know if it was _wrong_ in the sense that you're implying _._ I normally agree with all of your observations, decisions, and commands, and I suppose he _could_ have been a liability had he escaped...but your calculated military mindset wasn't what pulled that trigger that night….” he paused for effect, “your feelings were.”

And if that wasn't a kick in the teeth…

Harry sighed deeply when he didn't respond. “Listen, I figure I can be candid with you considering our familial relationship, so just _try_ to understand.”

Sirius nodded and beckoned him to continue. “ Hermione is _gone_ and you're _not_ the only one affected. I miss her every damn day but she isn't coming back. I don't like it, Ron doesn't like it. Fucking Christ, Sirius, _nobody_ likes it, but it's the truth. She is either dead or AWOL and the responsibility half rests on your shoulders.”

“So you think it's my fault?” It wasn't as if he hadn't been semi blaming himself, but it felt worse hearing it from the younger man.

“You didn't _have_ to kill him. At least not like that.”

Anger rolled around in his stomach. “Let's move on from this topic. I did have a reason for summoning you.”

“Sure.”

The two of them fell back into normal routine, the earlier discussion fading from their minds, as they worked. But nothing could be that simple, so it wasn't surprising that shit hit the fan. One moment they were drinking their tea and going over provision routes, and the next, the sound of explosions had them jumping to their feet.

“Plan C?” Harry questioned running toward the door, and he huffed out a confirmation.  

He made to follow Harry out but a slim body suddenly blocked his way. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw that he was face to face with the woman that had been plaguing his every waking moment. “Hermione?” He stumbled backward and blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. She was here? She was _actually here!_ She was alive and smiling! But...her smile was _wrong._ It was all teeth and malice.

 _“_ Hello, Commander Black.” She said, pushing him back into the room. “It’s been awhile.” The door shut behind her and she quickly slid the lock in place. When she fully faced him again she asked with little feeling, “Did you miss me?”

He felt out of sorts as he looked at her. She looked different, _felt_ different. And while he could hear shouting, fighting, and more explosions nearby, he couldn't move from his spot or look away from the woman in front of him. It had just been _so long_. “What...where the bloody hell have you been? I searched for you for weeks! We've been worried sick!”

“Don't worry, sir. I was _well_ taken care of.” He didn't miss the intended innuendo.

“What's happened to you?” He asked, confusion slowly taking over.

She stepped up into his personal space and it took everything in him to not flinch away. “That's a loaded question if I've ever heard one.” She answered. “What happened to me? I think you of all people should be intimately aware of what happened to me.”

Before he could even _think_ of a response to that, he felt the cold sharp blade of a knife sink painfully into his side.

“Sorry,” she whispered almost gleefully, “I don't have time for mind games tonight.”

“Why?” He stuttered, backing away and falling to his knees as he put pressure on the wound. “Why would you do this?”

The knife hung limply in her hand as she cocked her head to the side, studying and tracking his movements like a predator would stalk its prey. “As if you don't already know.”

This couldn't be about….she wouldn’t betray them all like this over that incident! “I don't! I've done nothing but protect you, Hermione. I don’t understand why you're doing this!”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” she laughed. “I’m sure Draco had no clue what he’d done either.” Sirius felt an icy dread wash over him. “But _unlike_ you, he really _didn't_ do a damn thing to warrant an execution. All he did that day was save Luna’s life. _My_ life. He used his knowledge of the DE’s poison to cure us but you sure as hell didn’t care about that. You didn't care that he was weaponless or that he'd been helping us for months. You put a bullet in his head for no other reason than my loving him.”

“That _Death Eater scum_ ,” He spat, knowing that it was the wrong thing to say even as it came tumbling out. “Didn't _deserve_ your love!”

She knelt down beside him, studying his face for a moment, and in that moment he thought he saw a flicker of _his_ Hermione staring back at him. But then that Hermione was gone. “Neither do you.” She hissed, and shoved the already bloodied knife deep into his stomach before ripping it out in an upward motion.

He felt his insides start to spill out of his abdomen and he almost vomited from the pain. Hermione…..the girl he'd watched grow up beside Harry and one of his most trusted and beloved captains...had _gutted_ him. He was going to die.

He stared up at her in shock as she wiped his blood off the knife with a handkerchief.

“You won't get away with this.” He hissed. “Harry-”

“Harry is quite occupied at the moment.”

His heart rate quickened. “What have you done to him?!”

She frowned and unlocked the door. “Harry is fine and he’ll remain fine. It was my one stipulation in working with him.”

That's when it _really_ hit him. She'd lead the enemy right to their door. “You..’

“Goodbye, Sirius.”

Before he lost consciousness he saw the smiling form of Tom Riddle pulling a terrifying and murderous Hermione Granger from the room. The last thought in his head was how The Order was doomed to fall at their feet and that it would be a fitting end to this nightmare, if there ever was one.


End file.
